


Crimson and Clover

by The_Red_Rabbit



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Drabble, Fluff, M/M, forgive me it's the middle of the night and i had to get this out of my head
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-29
Updated: 2019-06-29
Packaged: 2020-05-29 14:50:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 656
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19402546
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Red_Rabbit/pseuds/The_Red_Rabbit
Summary: Just a quick drabble I thought up at 4 am and had to get out of my head. Aziraphale tries chat-up lines.





	Crimson and Clover

**Author's Note:**

> Michael Sheen, if you're reading this, you've discorporated me, sir, and I apologize for any damage I cause in your name.

It was a lazy Sunday afternoon, so long after the attempted apocalypse that it was almost nothing more than a bad memory. It had been raining, but was starting to let up as the last rays of evening sunshine managed to peek through the gray clouds and shine through the curtains of a certain little cottage.

Aziraphale and Crowley rarely thought about their angelic days, and Crowley rarely thought about his subsequent days as a demon. By now they were something entirely other, and could not be bothered to think of such things. Otherworldly politics simply no longer interested them. They spent their days in leisure and there was always wine involved. At first they'd sit in the same room - Aziraphale reading a book and Crowley watching the television - but as time went on, they managed to find more common ground. They didn't always like the same music, but there were some old dusty vinyls they could agree on. Aziraphale would occasionally find a book that Crowley could tolerate, and Crowley would find a show or movie that Aziraphale found to his liking. They were very different, but also not by much. So it came to be that on this specific afternoon they were watching an afternoon quiz show when the show went to commercial. 

"This Jim guy is clearly a moron," Crowley said. "I'm not even an expert, but he keeps getting all the really _obvious_ literature questions wrong."

"Well Samantha isn't much better," Aziraphale acknowledged. "Did you hear her get that Joan Jett question wrong? Simply disgraceful."

"Would take a miracle for either of them to win at this point," Crowley said.

Aziraphale smiled. "Yes it would, wouldn't it?" 

Their cat, Freddie, hopped up on Crowley's lap at that moment. "There she is!" Crowley fawned, scratching behind the little red-and-black tortoiseshell's ear. "My good girl."

"And to think, you didn't think we should get a cat," Aziraphale said, fondly. "I'm still a bit put out that she likes you better than me."

"Yeah, well, you try too hard, don't you, Angel?" Crowley replied. "Cats can sense that."

Aziraphale just watched the screen as the commercial wound to a close. "My dear," he said, slowly. "I think it's time we had a conversation."

"About what, Angel?"

"Well, we've both advanced in age," he replied. "And I feel it is time...to discuss Life Alert."

Crowley looked up sharply, confused and alarmed by this. "I've seen those adverts," he said. "But we're immortal and in fine shape...Unless there's something I need to know?"

"There is," Aziraphale said. 

Crowley held his breath. "Is it serious?"

"I'm afraid it is. You see, my dear...I've Fallen. For you. And I can't get up."

Crowley just stared at him in disbelief as a slow grin made its way across Aziraphale's face. "That wasn't funny," Crowley insisted. "Like...at _all_. My _God_ , Angel-"

"It was too funny," Aziraphale chuckled. "The look on your face."

"You sure you're not the evil one?" Crowley asked, irritably. "Working me up like that-"

"You were never evil, Crowley. Just misunderstood."

The former demon, current disaster, just floundered for a moment. "And that was your idea of a chat-up line?"

"Thought it would do, yes."

"Well two can play at that game," he said, with a determination. "I'll use a particularly accurate one I've heard the humans use..."

"Oh?"

"Think heaven must be missing an angel..." Crowley began, evidently thinking he was smooth.

"Well that's too bad," Aziraphale replied. "Because I'm not giving you back."

Crowley suddenly felt a bit choked up, but he'd never admit it. "Excuse me," he said, getting up. "I've forgotten to yell at my plants today-"

"Don't you dare," Aziraphale said, laughing. "Don't take this out on the poor hydrangeas."

And it went on like this for quite some time, but for once...Crowley didn't shout at a single plant. Why should he shout when he was finally happy?


End file.
